


Que Sera Sera

by byrhthelm



Category: JAG
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 08:52:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3321362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byrhthelm/pseuds/byrhthelm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU snapshot of Harmon Rabb's life and career post Paraguay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Que Sera Sera

There was no way afterwards that Harm could have named the tune that he was slowly picking out on his guitar, when the sharp rap-rap-rapping on the apartment door broke his concentration. With a muttered curse, he laid the guitar to one side and rising from the couch he clambered to his feet, and with a yell of "Alright, alright! I'm coming!" in response to a new outbreak of knocks on his door, he crossed the room, 'If this is Mac, then I don't care what she wants, I've had enough of playing her games!' He told himself as for once, without checking through the Judas hole, he flung the door open.  
He stared blankly at his visitor; it wasn't Mac, and for a long moment, although he knew seen her before, he failed to recognise her. Then as he took in the details of her appearance, a riotous mane of dark red curls, emerald green dark-rimmed eyes, full, red lips, average height, neatly dressed. Running that catalogue of attributes through his mind, he came up with a name, "Megan, Megan Ransford?"  
"Yes, aren't you going to invite me in? You were expecting me? " she asked with a nervous smile.  
Harm, almost operating on auto-pilot, stepped back to allow her to enter the apartment, which as she did she also made a swift, but comprehensive scan of her surroundings.  
"May I take your coat?" Harm asked while he fought to mesh his frantically racing mental gears.  
"Oh, no, you're obviously not expecting me, and I get the feeling this is a bad time for you... I should just leave."  
With a little start of surprise, Harm realised that his irritation at being interrupted had dissipated, and further, not only was he aware of a degree of guilt, somewhere along the line a communication had evidently gone astray, but also he realised that he was curious as to what had brought his visitor all the way from Southern California to Washington DC.  
"No, no… You've made the effort to come and see me, and you obviously think that I should have been expecting you, and you've made me curious. Now, let me take that coat… Please?" He replied with a flashing smile.  
Although Megan had been keenly anticipating this visit, the ambivalent welcome she had received was making her have second thoughts, and it was that smile that tipped the balance in favour of her staying.  
With a half-smile of her own, she undid the buttons of her jacket and half-turned her back towards Harm to allow him to ease the coat down over her arms.  
Harm carefully hung the coat on one of the row of pegs just inside the door, and turning back towards Megan, smiled again "Take a seat please, and then you can tell me what brings you to DC, and in particular what brings you to my door? But before you do, can I get you a drink?"  
Megan sat in one of the armchairs, "Do you have such a thing as a beer?"  
Harm crossed to the fridge, "Coming right up!" he grinned, pausing on his way back to the couch to hand Megan one of the two bottles he held. Once he had resumed his seat and carefully placed his guitar out of harm's way, he raised his beer in silent salute and took a sip and swallowed before he said, "Like I said, it looks like there's a miscommunication somewhere along the way, you were obviously expecting me to be expecting you, and as we've just seen, that wasn't what happened!"  
Megan swallowed her own mouthful of beer, and couldn't prevent Harm's humorous but deadpan delivery inducing her own smile. And as Harm had remembered, she had quite a nice smile.  
"In a lot of ways, I called to say thank you. Your mother ratted you out, she let slip – if it was a slip – that you had mentioned my dad's work to her. You never mentioned that your mother owned an art gallery." she added in an accusatory aside. "Anyway she got in contact with me, and talked me into holding an exhibition of dad's paintings," she hurriedly added as she saw Harm open his mouth to speak in his defence. "In the end, she sold about half of dad's paintings, and at a very good price. But not only that, she spoke to one of her contacts here in DC, Simon Graves, one of the East Coast art-world's leading lights promoting work by contemporary and near-contemporary American artists, and he's invited me here to DC to discuss the possibility of mounting an exhibition here, and then maybe a little further south down the Atlantic coast. She did tell me that she would get in touch with you, once I'd arranged the trip, and let you know I was in town and that you could expect a visit from me. And I did call, yesterday, and left a message for you…"  
Harm winced and cast a guilty look at his telephone, sure enough, the little light told him he had unheard messages was flashing. With an uneasy grin, he turned back to Megan, "Umm... When did you arrange the trip... ?"  
"We finalised the details two days ago," she answered, the hint of a smile still curling the corners of her mouth; she had caught his guilty look at the telephone.  
"Ah... That could explain a lot," he confessed uneasily. "I've been out of town on an investigation. You know how that goes. And I didn't get back until yesterday. The investigation didn't go well, and things at work, hell, in my life, haven't been going too well. Yesterday was a real bear, and today was no better."  
"You still haven't worked it out with the brunette?"  
Harm took a mouthful of beer and swallowed before he answered, "There is no brunette, I have had enough of her drawing me in and pushing me away." Another mouthful of beer followed his words, but he hadn't finished yet, "And I'm getting too damned old to put up with her sophomore games anymore."  
Megan shook her head, "You're not old," she objected.  
Harm gave a bitter chuckle, "I shall be forty-two next birthday. Other guys my age have a wife, two, maybe three kids, some of them almost teenagers. The nearest thing I have had to a family was a ten month stint as a guardian to a teenage girl, which because of my duties I ended up sharing, quite unofficially, with a female petty officer, who herself was only a few years older than the teenager, and was almost young enough to be my daughter as well!"  
Megan managed to stop herself wincing, not so much at the scrap of story she had just been told, but at the bitterness in Harm's voice as he told it. "That still doesn't make you old," she replied. "But you said that was the nearest to a family you have had, that implies it's all in the past, what happened to bring it all to an end? That is, if you don't mind me asking!"  
Harm shrugged, and lifted his beer bottle, only now noticing, with some surprise that it was empty. "It's a long, dreary story, but if you're sure you want to hear it, then okay. But, we're going to need more beer!" He hauled himself to his feet and crossed to the fridge, taking out two more bottles of beer, and then opening the cupboard under the draining board, he hauled out another twelve-pack and stacked the bottles in the fridge. That task completed, he looked across at Megan and said with a slightly embarrassed tone of voice, "I would offer you dinner, but I don't have anything in, and I was just going to order in a pizza for myself."  
"I could do with something solid, just to soak up the beer, if for nothing else, and a pizza sounds great." Then Megan blushed as she realised she had practically invited herself to dinner, "Oh, and of course, I'll pay for my share of the pizza…"  
"No you won't," Harm said firmly, "I may have screwed the pooch in not expecting you, and not offering the welcome you should have had, but at least I won't make you pay for your dinner! What toppings would you like?"  
Megan grinned, "I pretty much don't mind what I have on a pizza, so whatever you're having is fine by me!"  
"Umm... I'm pretty much a vegetarian, so my usual topping is mushrooms, onion, peppers and olives, and occasionally anchovies." Harm explained.  
"Sounds good to me," Megan said in approval, "that is, if you can skip the anchovies tonight!"  
"I think I can manage that," Harm agreed gravely, but his gravity was betrayed by just the hint of a smile and a certain gleam in his eyes. Megan looked at him accusingly, and as their eyes met they both chuckled aloud. Absurd as it might have seemed to either of them, that short exchange of opinions on pizza toppings, broke the ice, all at once not only did Megan feel completely comfortable being in Harm's apartment, but he also felt totally comfortable with her being there.  
Harm handed her a beer and settled back down on the couch, to find Megan looking at him from under a quizzically raised eyebrow, "What's up? Have I got spinach stuck to my teeth?"  
Meg grinned, "No, nothing like that. Although I do have to congratulate you on a masterly attempt at changing the subject."  
"You do?" Harm asked mildly.  
"Indeed, before you tried to distract me with offers of pizza, you were about to tell me all about your teenage ward and your petty officer." Megan replied hopefully.  
"Are you really sure you want to hear this, it's a long, complicated and not very interesting story." Harm objected.  
Megan kicked off her shoes and drew her feet and sideways under her, giving Harm a good, long view of her legs. "It might be long and complicated, but it is obviously very important to you, so yes, I want to hear it. And besides from the little I know of you, I doubt very much that it is boring."  
Harm rolled his eyes, "It all began when I resigned from the Navy…"  
Megan, who had resolved to hear him out in silence was so taken by surprise that she couldn't prevent herself from interjecting, "You resigned from the Navy? I don't believe it, hell, if they cut you, you'd bleed Navy blue!"  
Harm eyed her severely, "As I said it's a long story, and if you're going to keep interrupting me every five seconds, it's going to be even longer! Now, as I was saying, it all started when I resigned from the Navy…"  
xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx  
it was nearly two hours later, when Harm wound up his story, interrupted as it had been by the delivery and consumption of the pizza washed down with another couple of beers each.  
"And then, when all the smoke had cleared, Jen didn't feel safe in the apartment anymore, so she found somewhere else and moved out…." Harm gave a sheepish grin, "I know that maybe we came close a time or two to crossing one line or another, but there was never any question of an improper relationship, neither of us would risk our careers for that, and besides, as I said, she's almost young enough to be my daughter. But even now, and it's been some time now, especially on quiet evenings I sometimes think that I can hear them next door, and I find myself expecting one of them to knock on the door".  
Apart from a few words of encouragement when he faltered, Megan had listened in silence to Harm's recounting his history with Mattie. It was obvious to her that despite his claim that he had petitioned for the guardianship out of a sense of duty and loyalty, "Someone had to look after that little girl," he had said dismissively, that something about the motherless and abandoned teenager had tapped a well-spring of emotion that he had kept bottled up for far too long.  
Something of that emotion was plain in his face as he finished talking. Despite his bravado, and his forced smile, Megan felt a rush of sympathy for him, here was a man who was obviously marked for fatherhood, and had revelled in the responsibility of looking after and loving not just Mattie Grace, but also Jennifer Coates, only to have that joy wrenched away after a few short months. Blinking her eyes to dispel the sudden rush of moisture, she silently wished that her own father had been more like Harm.  
Harm watched her anxiously, she had said nothing in the two or so minutes since he finished speaking, "I told you it was long, complicated and not very interesting, I guess I forgot to tell you that was a bit depressing too."  
Megan shook her head, "it was certainly long, and yes it was even complicated, but it was interesting, and there was love and joy as well as sorrow. You need to try and hold on to that joy, and the love, and let them leaven the sorrow."  
Harm shook his head in his turn, "Wow, when I met you at China Lake, I would never have guessed you were so wise."  
Megan grinned, "I wasn't then; but I've been taking lessons from your mother!"  
Harm looked at her in mock alarm, "Just how much time have you been spending with mom?" he asked in pretended suspicion.  
"Oh, just about all day, every day, five days a week for six weeks." Megan smiled disarmingly.  
Harm propped elbow on his knee and dropped his face into his hand, "And let me guess, she spent the whole six weeks bigging me up?"  
"Only if you consider her complaining that you had just about the biggest ego this side of the international dateline, and that you needed to get your head out of your six, grow up, and get on with your life, bragging."  
Harm raised his head and managed a rueful grin, "Ouch!"  
His expression provoked Megan into laughing out loud, "Ouch, indeed!" she half-sobbed when she had done laughing and mopped her eyes sufficiently to see that Harm was also grinning. She leaned back in her chair for a moment, resting her head against the squabs, but as she did so, the clock the far end wall of the lounge caught her eye. "Oh crap! Whoops! I meant: 'oh my', I didn't realise it was so late," she stood and looked around for her coat, smiling her excuses, "And although I may not look it, even if I do say so myself, I have a little confession to make: this girl needs her beauty sleep!"  
A look of consternation appeared on Harm's face, "Oh God, I'm sorry, I really can't have had my head on straight earlier, where are you staying?"  
Megan froze in the act of taking her jacket off its peg, "I've got a suite at the Willard on Pennsylvania." she said over her shoulder.  
Harm indicated the row of empty bottles on the coffee table, "You're not driving, are you?" he asked anxiously.  
He automatically took the jacket she held out to him, and waited until she had turned so that he could slip it up over her arms and settle it on her shoulders, "God no! Not after four beers!" She said emphatically. "Besides I don't know DC well enough to drive here, and from what I've seen of the traffic, I don't think I want to, it's a little bit too much for a country girl like me."  
"How… how, in that case, were you intending to get back to the hotel?"  
"Well, you are only a couple of blocks from Union Station, so I 'll just walk down there and get a cab."  
Harm stared at her in disbelief that anyone could be so naïve, "Over my dead body!" he expostulated, "You have no idea, have you, of just how dangerous this neighbourhood is? Megan, even I don't go out alone at this time of night unless I'm armed!"  
"If that's so, why do you live here?" she asked in astonishment.  
"Well, apart from the fact that I built all this and the apartment next door, when I first moved in the neighbourhood wasn't so bad. But as the surrounding areas have been gentrified one by one, the lowlifes have all been pushed into these few blocks north of the station." He gave a sardonic laugh, "God knows where they'll go If the city fathers ever decide to give this area a makeover!"  
"All very interesting," Megan observed somewhat sourly, "but that still doesn't get me back to the hotel!"  
"Nothing simpler," Harm reassured her, "I'll call the local cab dispatch, and when your cab arrives, walk you down."  
Megan eyed him dubiously, "Is that really necessary," she asked.  
"Damn straight!" said Harm as he retrieved his cell phone from his work station at the end of the lounge, before taking station at the window overlooking the alley, where he could keep a lookout for the cab, and where Megan joined him in his vigil, standing close enough for her light perfume to fill his nostrils.  
It took a bare ten minutes for the cab to arrive in the alley, and then Megan gave a little squeal of surprise as Harm almost bundled her out of the apartment, explaining as he did so, "Taxi drivers won't hang around here, either, and if we're not out there in two minutes, he'll be gone!"  
They made it in time, and although the driver looked as if he was about to start grumbling Megan held the door open, while she turned towards Harm. Placing one hand on his shoulder for balance, she raised on her toes, and kissed him gently, a closed mouth kiss, on his lips.  
Harm, once Megan had laid her hand on his shoulder had been expecting a soft peck on his cheek, and was taken by surprise, so swift were her movements and so fleeting her kiss that even his fighter pilot reflexes weren't quick enough to allow him to react.  
Megan dropped back onto her heels, and with a grin, she said "You provided dinner this evening, so I'll do the same tomorrow; eight for eight thirty, the Willard's bistro, informal. Be there." And with a last grin she ducked into the rear seat of the cab, and closed the door, leaving Harm standing in the middle of the alley and trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.  
xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx  
For most of the day Harm had debated with himself whether or not to accept Megan's invitation, or call the hotel to have them pass a message that he wouldn't be able to make it. But it was a Saturday, and just for once there were no files from the office for him to pore over, and he couldn't even contribute to the death rate of his brain cells, he had gifted the TV and DVD recorder/player to Jen when she had moved out. All of a sudden the prospect of a long, solitary – he refused to even think about calling it 'lonely' – Saturday evening lost all its minimal attractions, he'd had far too many of those sort of evenings in the recent past.  
So, at five minutes to eight o'clock that evening, he climbed out the back seat of the cab that brought him to Pennsylvania Avenue, and straightening the jacket of his light grey suit, another of his mom's Italian jobs, and a Christmas present from her, he trod up the steps to the hotel's main doors and entered.  
As soon as the doors closed behind him, Megan stood from where she had been sitting, ostensibly reading a glossy magazine while keeping a surreptitious eye on the door, and walked towards him. He had always thought that Megan Ransford was attractive, but to his not inexperienced eye it looked like that this evening she had pulled out all the stops. She had obviously spent time at a high-class hairdressers, the normal riot of curls had been tamed into a softly waved cascade that hung down to shoulders left virtually bare by the spaghetti straps of her green, shot-silk and V-necked cocktail dress.  
Megan was painfully aware that the smile on her face was composed of equal parts pleasure in seeing Harm again, and relief that he had turned up. She had deliberately sprung the invitation on him at the very last second of last night, so that he wouldn't have time to decline it, which she was sure would have been his reflex action. "Right on time," she remarked, "but your mother seems to think you're late for everything, she said, if I remember correctly, 'he was three days past my due date, and he's been consistently late for everything throughout his life. God knows how he manages to survive in the Navy!'"  
Harm grimaced, "Ouch! Too much information! But it does sound exactly like something my mom would say." he finished with a slightly sheepish grin.  
Megan chuckled, and took his arm in her hand, "We have half an hour before our table will be ready, how do you fancy buying a girl a drink, sailor?"  
Harm grinned, "Mom warned me about girls like you, but you're the first one I've ever met, I thought my luck was running out!"  
Megan laughed outright, causing heads to turn, and although there were one or two frowns of disapproval, most of the faces turned towards them were all smiles at the sight of the undeniably attractive couple, who seemed so absorbed in each other and so pleased with their own company as they walked towards the bar.  
They kept their conversation over their pre-dinner drinks lights and inconsequential, both keen to get back into the comfort zone they had created the previous evening. So successful were they in achieving their aim that the only just stopped themselves from glaring at the bistro's head waiter when he came to summon them to their table. Megan did manage a smile for his benefit, while the best that Harm could manage was an expressionless stare, which had Megan giggling softly all the way to the bistro.  
Dinner was of an exceptionally high standard, as was to be expected from a hotel as prestigious as the Willard, and neither Megan nor Harm had anything to complain about from the Vichyssoise to the tarte tatin via the langoustines Provençal and the brochettes des Légumes-racines rôtis all accompanied by a crisp, dry Chablis chilled to perfection. It was only when they had been served their coffee that Megan steered the conversation in the direction she had wanted all evening.  
"So, when are you going to obey your mom and sort your life out?" she asked with a smile that robbed her words of any offence.  
Harm put his coffee cup down and slowly shook his head from side to side, "I would love to, those few months looking after Mattie – and Jen too, I suppose – were about the happiest I've been a number of years, but the problem is I wasted too much time, and invested too much of myself pursuing someone who ultimately pushed me away one time too many. I needed a bit of a breathing space after that, so now, as washed up and as old as I am, I just hope that there is a special someone out there for me, who is willing to take on an aging fighter pilot with a ruined back and a dodgy knee."  
Megan's face lost her smile as she listened to him. "Don't be ridiculous!" she blazed "I told you last night, you are not old, and I sincerely doubt whether you are as washed up as you seem to think. Where's that fighter pilot's ego that I kept hearing about for weeks on end, huh? And that someone you seem to think is out of reach, may just be a damn sight closer than you dream!"  
Harm just stared at her in amazement, as incredible as it seemed, it appeared that Megan Ransford had just declared that she could, or might, be interested in him.  
Megan returned his stare for an instant, wondering what had startled him, but then she realised that the indignation she had felt at Harm putting himself down had led her into being far more uninhibited in her choice of words that she had intended. As that realisation dawned she felt her cheeks flame and she dropped her eyes in confusion.  
Harm felt for her, God knows, he'd managed to put his foot in his mouth any number of times over the years, and for some reason he also felt a need to rescue Megan from the consequences of her own indiscretion. So he continued as if she hadn't spoken, "As for my career, well I figure I'm pretty much topped out now; I've taken far too many hits, and I have a service record that more than one senior officer has described condescendingly as making 'interesting reading', and that is not going to make me any friends on any future selection boards, particularly if any of those senior officers are members of the board!"  
"But… but… couldn't you, oh I don't know, isn't there a mechanism where you could get those officers to recuse themselves because they might be biased against you?" Megan asked, fully aware what Harm was doing, and very grateful to him for doing that.  
Harm shook his head again, "it doesn't work like that, Megan, candidates for selection rarely know that they are being boarded, and the membership of the board is kept strictly secret, to the extent that the members are required to take an additional oath of confidentiality and never to discuss the boards proceedings."  
"That hardly seems fair," Megan complained.  
"I never saw anywhere, that life comes with a guarantee of fairness," Harm quipped, noting that Megan had recovered her composure, and he was now quite willing to sit back, finish his coffee and let her steer the conversation back into the realms of the innocuous, feeding her gentle prompts when it seemed that the conversation might either dry up or veer back into murky waters.  
His ploy, with Megan's unwitting assistance, worked so well that at the end of the evening, she was able to walk him back across the lobby towards the main doors, without the slightest trace of self-consciousness.  
They were on the verge of saying good night, and Harm was debating whether or not to invite Megan to join him the following day for some sort of activity or other, when she did almost as she had done the previous night, except for this time she laid both hands on his shoulders as she stood on tiptoe and kissed him again. There was something about this kiss that felt different to Harm, her lips felt softer, more yielding, and she definitely maintained contact a lot longer than she had the previous night. Fervently hoping that he wasn't about to crash headlong into a red light, Harm swept his tongue along her lower lip, and with a soft moan Megan opened to him, and permitted their tongues to glide against each other for a few seconds before she dropped back onto her heels, and gazed at him with solemn eyes.  
"That is the third time I've kissed you, the first time was a thank you for finding out what had happened to dad, the second time, last night, was to say thank you for an enjoyable evening, the third time just now, was a question, which you answered correctly. The next time I kiss you will be a promise."  
"And when will that be?" Harm asked huskily as he gazed down into her eyes which now seemed much darker than before.  
"Now, if you want," Megan replied throatily.  
"I want," Harm said simply.  
Megan cast a quick glance around the lobby, and grabbing hold of Harm's hand she almost dragged him into the cover afforded by one of the huge potted rubber plants that stood in a row along each wall of the lobby. Once in cover, she locked her hands at the nape of his neck and again stood on tiptoe, this time to receive his kiss.  
When at last the need for air broke them apart Megan's knees were shaking and her heart was pounding. She had to swallow twice before she could speak through her kiss-swollen lips, and when she did her voice was still ragged, "I bought a new toothbrush for you to use in the morning…" she said shyly.  
Harm, all too well aware of his body's reaction to a woman's kiss after such a long drought, also had to clear his throat before he could speak, "it would be a shame and a waste of money to let it go unused, wouldn't it?" he asked.  
Megan nodded, took his hand and led him toward the elevators.  
xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx  
Megan perched on the windowsill, staring out across the campus towards the marina, where the masts and standing rigging of the massed sailboats gleamed in the moonlight. That same moonlight poured in through the window where she had drawn back the drapes, silvering the broad gold band, the two narrow rings above it and above all the mill-rinde of the JAG Corps on Harm's dress white uniform.  
Harm woke up with the sense that something was wrong, even in his sleep it seemed he could sense when his wife of nearly twenty-six years got up in the middle of the night. He propped himself up on both elbows while his eyes swept the room, they may not have been as keen as they had been when he was a twenty something year old fighter jock, but they were still more than sufficiently keen to see his wife sitting in a most undignified manner on the windowsill of their quarters at Annapolis.  
He must have made a slight noise, as Megan turned towards him, moving into the moonlight and allowing it to highlight her hair, not quite as vibrantly red as it used to be, nor was it the wild mane she had preferred for many years, now it was cut into a smart crop, befitting her years as she laughingly explained it. The light also turned her simple knee-length cotton nightgown translucent, revealing to his appreciative eyes her still slim, almost girlish, figure which she had kept despite the years and her three pregnancies. Patricia Megan had been followed by David Harmon and Franklin John.  
"Harm?"she whispered, "did I wake you?"  
"Only because you weren't here with me. It's been a long, long time since I had to go off haring all over the world, leaving you behind. I got too used to having you in bed with me to be able to sleep when you're not there."  
"You've still got your silver tongue, to match your silver hair," she teased him as she perched once again on the windowsill.  
Tease him she might, but there was something in her voice, something that told Harm that all was not well. Swinging his legs out of bed, he padded across the bedroom floor and as he drew near the window he saw to his horror the tear tracks on her cheeks. Cupping her cheek with a still strong but gentle hand, he used the ball of his thumb to tenderly wipe away the tears. He felt an icy hand grab his heart; Megan never cried.  
"What is it sweetheart?"  
Megan sniffled inelegantly, "I can't believe it, our baby is getting married tomorrow…"  
"I know, I know," he crooned comfortingly as he rocked her gently in his arms, "but she's twenty-four now, and a Lieutenant in the Navy," he reminded her.  
"I know that, but I remember when the nurse first handed her to me, so tiny, and wrapped up that soft pink blanket your mom sent," Megan said falteringly.  
"Yes, I remember that too," Harm nodded.  
"I'll bet you do, she had you wrapped all the way round her little finger from that moment on!" Megan smiled through her tears.  
"She did not," Harm denied defensively.  
"Oh! You liar! She could never do anything wrong in your eyes, remember when she was aged six and she decided that she could ride a bicycle? She borrowed one off that Amanda next door, and of course she fell off, came running home with that horrible hole with her chin, and blood all over her T-shirt and shorts, and all you said was that next time she wanted to try and ride a bicycle to wait until you were home so you could catch her when she fell off!"  
"Yes, I remember that. And it nearly broke my heart when I saw those stitches in her chin," Harm said softly.  
"You never said anything about that, and you still encouraged her, and it was only the next summer, when she fell out that damned cherry tree the end of the yard. Thank God she fell into the yard and not onto the fence. Even then, she broke her arm and spent the rest of the summer vacation with it in a cast!"  
"Yeah, that's our Peppermint Pattie, always the tomboy…" Harm smiled in fond memory.  
Megan leaned back against the support of his arms, "Yes, and if that wasn't bad enough you encouraging her like that, it was worse when the boys started following her everywhere. They idolised her, but did she look after them like a good big sister, and keep them out of trouble? Oh no, not her! God knows what mischief she led them into, how many trees they fell out of, how many ponds they fell into; they came home often enough covered in mud and soaking wet, 'just trying to catch pollywogs, mom'! If I heard that excuse once, I must have heard it a hundred times, and you just stood there, and laughed. There wasn't a scrap of mischief Patricia got into that you didn't encourage her… Well, right up to the time she discovered boys, and stop being a tomboy herself!"  
"Hell, I certainly wasn't going to encourage that pursuit!" Harm declared, "I still remember what I was like as a teenage boy, I wasn't about to let any of them get anywhere near my daughter!"  
Megan giggled, "Oh yes, and I remember how mad at you she was, when that Simon… whatever his name was, came to collect her for the Junior prom, you were sat at the kitchen table cleaning your pistol! She was madder than a hornet, I didn't think she was ever going to forgive you!"  
Harm grinned again, "Oh, she forgave me weeks before she stopped pretending to be mad at me."  
"All those memories," Meg sighed softly, "but the one I really treasure is when she was four, you were taking her for her first Halloween trick or treat, and wonder of wonders, somehow we had persuaded our little monster to wear a dress, and not just any dress, a pink Princess Bride dress."  
"It was blue!" Harm objected.  
"Was not either!" Megan contradicted him.  
"Was too!" Harm managed to argue, before they both dissolved into helpless laughter.  
Ten minutes later, still in their night gear and with a steaming mug of chocolate in front of them both, they were at the kitchen table, with the box of family photograph albums, trying to find the one photograph they were both sure would put them right about the colour of that dress.  
xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx  
"Commandant on deck!" The cry rang out, silencing the half-dozen or so officers in the room as they snapped to attention, as Harm, leaning on his cane as he had to do more and more frequently these days, entered the Chapel's vestibule.  
"Good morning gentlemen, Chaplain West, everything all set?"  
"Ready, aye, Admiral," The chaplain replied, "I just wanted to make sure that you were here before I scrambled into my vestments."  
"It was a bit of a struggle, walking the whole sixty feet from the kerbside to the door," Harm said dryly.  
"Well, just as long as you made it," the Chaplain answered, totally impervious to Harm's irony. "And as you're here now, I'll be off"  
Harm looked at the remaining officers, all junior instructors at the Academy, and all of the them much more senior than the officers who usually filled the duties of Ushers at naval weddings, but all of them volunteers out of the respect, admiration and even affection they felt towards their Commandant. "Gentlemen, I shall be called upon to make more than enough speeches today, so I shall make this mercifully short, I just wish to thank you, and to relay the thanks of my wife and of course of my daughter, for giving up your time to help make our day special. Thank you. Please go about your duties "  
Lieutenant Commander Barrett, the senior officer present, other than Harm of course, barked out a sharp "Ten-hut!" And the group snapped to, holding a brace until Barrett voiced a quiet "Hut" at which signal they all right-faced and filed into the main body of the Chapel.  
For the moment Harm was left alone. The last wedding he had attended at the Academy Chapel had been his and Megan's, only six short months after that first night in her suite at the Willard, the short engagement necessitated by his unexpected orders to proceed to Naples, as Force Judge Advocate General for the United States Navy in Europe, and by his equally unexpected promotion to Captain. Since then, Megan had uncomplainingly followed where the Navy sent him, Naples was succeeded by JSLO South East in the sweltering humidity of New Orleans, and followed then by his first star and a posting in midwinter back to DC as the deputy assistant JAG for International Maritime law, then had come Okinawa, and a string of other billets, culminating In DC as the Two-Star Deputy JAG. That was to have been his last slot, but then had come the offer of his present billet, Commandant of the US Navy Academy Annapolis, along with the third star that went with the position.  
"Sir, Sir, are you alright?"  
Harm brought himself back to the present, and smiled at the expression of concern on his young Flag Lieutenants face, "I'm fine thank you, Miss Roberts, just lost for a few moments in the mists of time, but I'm back now," he reassured her.  
"Are you sure, Sir?" she asked and once again Harm could see more than just the physical resemblance to her mother.  
"Yes, I'm sure. Thank you, Lieutenant."  
Lieutenant Roberts nodded, "Very well, Sir. Now, moving quickly on…" she grinned not quite cheekily "I know you've seen the dress, but have you seen Tricia wearing it, Sir?"  
Hearing his late mother's name still brought a pang Harm, but his daughter had adopted it as the name to be used by her friends in place of her full name. But, quickly realising that her decision was hurting her father, made it a strictly enforced rule, that around the house she was still Pattie, "but, definitely no Peppermint!" She had admonished her father.  
But, "No, not yet, she and her mother wouldn't let me. I think they were afraid that I'd blab to Tuna, and that he tell Tinfish. But don't you dare tell them I said that, young Nikki."  
Nikki Roberts looked up at the man whom she had known all her life. His change of mode of address told her that for a moment or two, he was no longer her commanding officer, but an old family friend, so she was able to smile back up at him and slip into informality, "Your secret is safe with me, Uncle Harm." She glanced at her watch "Two minutes, Sir," she reverted on the instant back to the naval officer.  
But either her watch was slow, or Patricia Megan Rabb was impatient, because in less than a minute the door to the side room opened, and Patricia preceded by her two bridesmaids, entered the vestibule. As always, Harm felt his heart swell with pride at the sight of his daughter, she was always beautiful, but today… well today, despite his years of courtroom-honed eloquence he simply could not find words to describe her. The wedding dress was of full length white satin, long-sleeved and modestly high-necked, with a demi-train that when allowed to fall from her hand would trail along the aisle behind her. Her veil, which hung to just below her shoulders was secured to her hair, a darker shade than her mother's, by a circlet of white bud-roses while the bouquet she carried consisted of peonies and white lilac sprays, bound by pearl-knotted silk ribbons.  
But while Harm was lost in admiring his daughter, he would have been slightly embarrassed, had he been privy to her thoughts. Patricia Rabb was by no means immune to the allure of dress whites and gold wings. Her bridegroom, waiting, no doubt nervously, in front of the altar of the Navy's Cathedral, would doubtless be wearing his own gold wings on his dress whites, but Patricia had always thought her father looked magnificent, and now with the dignity of age and the aura of command he gave off, she too could find no words to describe him.  
With a misty smile she stepped closer, and greatly daring, raised a finger to stroke the gold wings pinned above his salad bar. "Hello, daddy," she smiled shyly.  
"Hello, Pattie." His hand closed gently over her finger in a reversal of their earliest roles. "Missing not wearing your own wings?" he teased her softly.  
"And who says I'm not?" she challenged him, still smiling.  
He gave her a quick visual inspection, but could see no sign of her cherished pin, "Do I want to know where you're wearing them?" he grinned.  
"Probably not," she admitted with a hint of her old tomboy grin.  
"In that case, I won't ask!" He drew a deep breath and sobered, "Are you ready for this?"  
"I am, if you're with me, Hammer?"  
"To hell and back, Wildcat, to hell and back!" he gritted through a rapidly closing throat.  
Patricia turned to her two bridesmaids, Lieutenant JG Abigail Tiner and Lieutenant Sandra Halliwell, one of her Squadron mates, resplendent in their Navy blue dresses, and despite the teardrops sparkling on her lashes, she now grinned like the mischievous tomboy she had once been, "Okay ladies, I got a bridegroom to catch, so let's do this!"  
Harm crooked his right elbow, and Patricia laid her hand on his forearm. Raising his cane, Harm rapped sharply twice on the closed doors of the Chapel, immediately they swung open and gritting his teeth against the anticipated pain, Harm tucked his cane under his left arm in case of need, but was determined to walk his daughter down the aisle without having to use it.  
The organ swelled as the door opened and just before their view was blocked by the two bridesmaids, Harm and Patricia could see the aisle flanked by a mass of Navy dress whites, broken here and there by Marine Corps full dress blues and by the splashes of colour from the ladies' dresses, and right at the end of the aisle, his face almost as white as his uniform, Lieutenant Daniel Medwick, call sign 'Tinfish' waited for his bride.

The End


End file.
